


More Scars Than Skin

by milkywayy



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: 1d, Chaptered, Fluff and Angst, I don't know what else to tag, Love, M/M, Smut, Some real angsty shiz right here, hooker!AU, larry stylinson - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-08
Updated: 2014-07-08
Packaged: 2018-02-07 23:48:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1918740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/milkywayy/pseuds/milkywayy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They were a mess of matter and a concoction of being. They were puzzle pieces sanded down at the edges. They were summer and ice, fire and snow, heavy lightness and the heaviness found in emptiness. A poisonous love and a perfect disaster.<br/>OR Harry is a walking calamity, the definition of damaged goods, Louis doesn’t seem to mind all that much.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. the first one

**Author's Note:**

> idk what to say, it just came to me MY GOD IM FUCKING JOKING I POURED BLOOD SWEAT AND TEARS INTO THIS AND ITS STILL NOT FINISHED but i know where its going (i dont) and i love this story (i dont) and i am excited to share it (I'm not) 
> 
> lol look its anything but 'polished' so if you stumble across any mistakes just let me know so i can go crawl into a hole no ok a y 
> 
> in all seriousnousisity i hope this takes you on the same journey its taken me on and i hope you enjoy xxx
> 
> disclaimer: not inspired by true events, characters based off 1d boys but have no affiliation with the actual 1d boys this is completely and hole-y (c wat i did there lol i love gay fan fic) fiction

It all came down to Binh Minh in the long run. Binh Minh was a Chinese restaurant around the corner from Louis’ building. He ordered take out from there almost every night… until it gave him food poisoning. And now he can barely even think of their sweet and sour pork without getting queasy. So, one fateful Saturday night, lying shamefully on the couch in sweats with nothing but coca-pops and a bottle of tomato sauce in his cupboard, he decided to throw on a raincoat and head off in search for a new Chinese restaurant.

The nearest one, according to Google maps, was a twenty-minute cab drive downtown.

And where he ended up didn’t look very promising. It didn't look very safe either. It was mostly deserted, and the people that Louis did see walked very fast and clutched belongings very tightly. Most windows were boarded up and caged in, there was about twenty street lamps dotting the part of town and only two were working.

After a quick look at the place, he decided cocoa pops would probably be more nutritious. The walls obviously used to be white but had become something of a murky brown colour, the ceiling had leaks and the woman behind the counter clearly wasn’t born a woman. Louis was out of the place as quickly as he’d entered it.

The part of town he was in could best be described as terrifying. And dirty.

He took refuge next to a bus stop and hoped, prayed, it wouldn’t be too long until a taxi drove past.

Louis was startled to hear footsteps behind him (he’d been hoping he wouldn’t come across anyone holding the potential to stab him). He turned around quickly to see a boy (not a serial stabber) (at least, he hoped).

“If you’re waiting for the bus I wouldn’t bother.” The boy spoke; he blew out a puff of smoke from his cigarette. His curly hair fell across his forehead as he looked at his feet, and he had to sweep it out of his face. Louis was instantly enthralled. “They stop running in this part of town at 11.”

“I – uhh… I’m not… I’m not…” Louis stuttered.

“Capable of coherent sentences?” The boy’s lips curled around his cigarette and his cheeks concaved as he inhaled the smoke. He was beautiful and he made Louis feel things he never thought another dude could make him feel. He was tall, long legs and a muscular build. Louis knew this because he was clad in ridiculously tight jeans and a black t-shirt and even though the maternal part of him was horrified another part of him was kind of…thankful. He was well fit.

“I’m not waiting for a bus, I’m waiting for a cab. And you really should be wearing more close because it is winter and, c’mon, it’s London.” Louis turned his back to the beautiful boy, trying to act nonchalant. “That was two coherent sentences by the way, so I think that proves your point quite wrong.”

The boy chuckled. It was a nice sound. “What’s your name?”

“What?”

“You intrigue me.” Louis could hear the smirk in his voice. He held back a shiver and turned to face him. There was no way he was going to discourse his real name to some creep he’d met less than minutes ago, smack bang in the middle of The World’s Scariest Suburb.

“Louis.” He said. Well, okay. Don’t know where that came from.

“Louis, I like that. I’m Harry, and if I may, Louis, you have awfully mesmerizing eyes.” _Pfft. Like you can talk._ He thought. The boy, Harry, put out his cigarette on the pavement and took a step closer, Louis couldn’t think straight. He took a step back, half instinct, half fear and half confusion because he kind of didn’t want to take a step back and Harry smelt _really_ good and Louis was so perplexed because he liked girls. He did. 

“Uh,” Louis looked at his feet, “thanks.” 

“Louis,” His own name had never sounded so wonderful, “Do you like… Do you like boys, Louis?”

Louis almost spat out the water he hadn’t been drinking. What a forward young man. He shrugged in reply. He did _not_ like boys. Louis was as straight as… a straight thing. A ruler. (Except for those bendy rulers that first graders use.) (And not the miniature ones either.) (Louis was a big, manly, straight, ruler.).

The boy stood even closer and parts of him touched parts of Louis and those parts tingled in response. 

At least… he thought he was straight? He’d only ever been with girls; he’d never really considered the idea of being with a guy. But Harry wasn’t ‘just’ a guy. He was Harry, stupidly-dressed-seductive-god-of-sex, Harry.. And yeah, okay, Louis could totally imagine jumping on his saddle (excuse the reference). 

Louis didn’t remember what it felt like to have personal space anymore. His whole world was curly hair and pink lips and bright eyes and long legs and bare arms and jawlines and want and lust, a whole lot of lust. The lust he was feeling now, made him feel like he’d never felt lust before, like, he’d been missing _this_ his whole life? He felt robbed. Cheated. 

Louis took a step back and then he was pressed up against the billboard advertising a brand of condoms on the side of the bus stop. Ah, the sweet taste of irony. A strand of hair fell into Harry’s eyes and some uncontrollable urge deep inside of Louis reacted, he reached out and tucked it safely under the boy’s fringe. Harry took advantage of the intimate gesture and moved forward yet again, now his whole body was pressed against Louis'. They were chest-to-chest, shoulder-to-shoulder, and, uh...Crotch-to-crotch. Louis blushed crimson, knowing full well what Harry would discover now.

"Well, well, well!" he chuckled, his whole body vibrating, "I’ll take that as a yes."

Louis closed his eyes. What the fuck was going on? He took a deep breath, tucked the whole gay epiphany thing in a box, padlocked it, and hid it in a closet in the back of his mind. 

"You know, I can help you out with that," He lightly rubbed his palm over Louis’ embarrassingly hard cock and Louis shuddered in response, "If you want."

Yes, yes that is exactly what he wanted! Okay, just to clarify, Louis was _not_ this guy. He wasn’t the guy that got picked up by random, albeit attractive (okay more than just attractive), people. He had only ever had sex with people he was in relationships with! And the whole two of them were girls! This was an entire new territory, but it was… exciting. And okay, maybe he was just thinking with his dick but it was a little hard (pun intended) not to because he had a god in the form of a 20 something year old pressed up against every inch of his body telling him he could help him out with the raging boner he was currently sporting.

Louis nodded. He was trying to put on a nonchalant exterior (not doing a very good job at it but, you know, points for trying) but it was all stampeding elephants in his stomach.

Harry leaned in close and whispered, his lips brushing Louis ear, “How much do you have?"

"What?" Did he mean experience? Because Louis would never admit his experience, or lack thereof, to this clearly experienced sex master.  
"How much money do you have on you?"

All right, now Louis was proper confused, why the hell did he want to know how much money Louis had? Oh shit, maybe he actually was going to rob him.

"What? How is that even slightly relevant?" Louis squirmed because Harry moved his hips and it rubbed Louis in all the right places, sending waves of pleasure down his spine and everywhere else.

It took longer than it should have for Louis to register what exactly was going on. The forwardness, the public dry humping, the lack of clothes, even the way he spoke…

"Wait, you're a p-prostitute?" Louis was shaking, half with pleasure, half shock. All right and a little bit of embarrassment too.

Harry flashed a devilish smirk, distressing eyes glaring with sin. He had Louis’ body pinned against the bus stop and there was no way Louis could escape… he was tiny; he had the muscle definition of linguini. 

Louis really was having trouble breathing now. His breaths coming short and rapid, his head was throbbing, he started panicking that he was having an asthma attack and ohmygod he was going to die he didn’t even have his asthma puffer but then he realized he didn’t actually have asthma and, okay. Deep breathes.

Louis wasn't going to lie, the fact that this guy was a hooker did make the situation stranger (actually it made a bit more sense), but it didn't put a damper on the sexual frustration eating away at Louis’ insides, or the fact that Louis definitely wanted to have sex with this guy. He could not imagine going home this sexually frustrated because wanking just wouldn't do the trick and he highly doubted Zayn would be up for helping him out. Actually he really, really hoped that Zayn wouldn't be up for helping him out.

"I don't- I don't have any money." That was a lie, he had $7.50, but that was enough to get him steamed dumplings not a middle class male prostitute!

Harry groaned in frustration, he had obviously worked up quite the appetite too, considering what Louis could feel pressed against his hip. He rested his forehead against Louis' and exhaled shakily. His breath was cold; it smelt like mint and nicotine. "I'm afraid that just won't do." His face lit up, "You don't have to pay."

"What? But-"

"Believe it or not, I don't actually want to sleep with you because of money. I’m just bored and you’re easy."

Louis gulped too infatuated with the feeling of Harry’s breath on his skin to even react to the insult. There was probably a voice inside of him shrieking that this was a bad idea but he couldn't hear it over the throbbing in his pants. Going home with a hooker? That was so...un-Louis, not to mention un-sanitary. But it wasn't like Harry was some STD hoarding 70 year old with no teeth and more chest hair than King Kong. He was a tall, brooding, 20 something year old with deadly green eyes and really nice lips. And you know, trying new things and all that. Yeah okay, he was definitely thinking with his dick.

"You in?" Harry inched closer, his lips hovering insanely close to Louis'.

Louis nodded slowly. No turning back now. The corner of the boy’s mouth twitched upwards and he moved close enough that their lips brushed; the contact was enough to send Louis' whole body into overdrive. But then suddenly, he pulled away and ran to the curb. Disappointment cursed through Louis' veins like a morphine drip and he slumped against the bus stop billboard, not realizing how rigid he had become. It was only when the boy raised his hand and started waving it around that Louis got that he was waving down a passing cab.

The cab ride was a lot of hands sliding up thighs and neck kissing (translation: the boy did that stuff and Louis sat there blushing and getting ridiculously hard).  
Somehow they ended up at Louis' building, he must of given the cab directions but he couldn’t remember. He was a little preoccupied, what with a hand cupped around his balls and all that.

"Gees, you should really look into an apartment in a building with an elevator." The boy puffed after running up 12 flights of stairs.  
"But then all the pizza I binge eat would taste so much more like guilt than it already does.” 

Louis fumbled with his key because his hands were shaking, he couldn’t focus on anything with those fingers grazing the skin on his hips. He dropped the little bugger a few times and after the seventy-thousandth attempt at unlocking his own door he finally got it open. 

Once through the threshold he threw the key onto the coffee table and the Harry followed him inside, closing the door behind them. Louis started to make his way to the bedroom but Harry got ahold of his arm and tugged him back. Louis spun and under the influence of Harrys careful maneuvering he ended up pressed against the door. He was about to voice his disapproval about once again being the one pressed against the hard object and how he was going to have bruises covering his spine in the morning but then Harry closed the agonizing distance between their lips and they were kissing and _oh._

The shock froze Louis for a moment before quickly dissolving. Harry’s lips were dry in a nice way, he kissed by the book, tugging and teasing and biting until he had Louis gasping into his mouth. The kiss morphed from playful and dirty to something entirely more dangerous and suddenly, Louis could feel _everything._  His whole body became alive, he could feel the blood coursing through his veins and he could feel his muscles working as he draped his arms around Harrys neck, even his skin felt more like skin. He felt as though every atom he was made up of was steam and with the slightest puff of air he would dissolve into nothing. He was a mess of matter and he melted perfectly into Harry’s crooks and dents. This was so soppily 14-year-old-girl but it was almost like they were built just for each other. Louis couldn't even imagine the thought of kissing anyone but _Harry._ He can’t imagine why he ever kissed anyone ever that wasn’t Harry. Maybe getting food poisoning was kind of, you know, fate.

This feeling was not orthodox. Sure, Louis had only had sex with 2 girls, but he’d kissed other girls. He’d kissed strangers, in fact, but he hadn’t ever experienced a sensation so _consuming_ in his whole life.

He was almost positive that the feeling wasn’t unrequited because how could Harry not feel something so intense? Right on cue, Harry moaned in ecstasy, answering Louis’ unspoken question.

Harry traced his fingers along the underside of Louis’ jaw slowly, before sliding both hands down his back until he was clutching the smaller mans ass. Louis sighed happily in response, lifted up his legs and wrapped them tightly around Harry’s waist. Louis’ maneuvered his hips dry humping the other boy, letting out small whines with the greedy bursts of pleasure it evoked.

Somehow Harry found his way to Louis’ bed without breaking the kiss, given, it was pretty easy to find seeing as it was just a massive mattress on the floor. He threw Louis down on top of the mess of white sheets and then striped down to nothing. Louis’ mimicked his actions, he could barely see, the only light in the room was coming from the fire escape behind them, but what he could see looked pretty damn nice.

The two of them didn’t fuck around (well, they did but you know); they got straight down to business. Louis found some old lube and a box of condoms tucked safely away in the back of his closet and Harry got to work. He put a generous amount of lube on his fingers slowly, with icy cold fingers that made goose bumps appear on Louis’ skin, he began lightly grazing circles around Louis’ opening. Louis shivered, but before he even had time to register the pressure Harry pushed a finger inside of him. 

Louis cried out, his whole body electrocuted, the feeling was pleasantly uncomfortable, different but still good. It was like turning on a switch. Louis morphed from a conservative undergrad with the sexual history of a nun to a rabid sex animal, desperate for _Harry, Harry, Harry._ everything looked and felt and even smelt 100x better than it did before. 

Harry smirked, and looked up at Louis through black eyelashes. But Louis could only hold his gaze for a few seconds because Harry pushed three fingers in and Louis threw his head back against the pillow and gasped, he wanted to cry because it hurt so much, he wanted to run away, this was all too much, to real a thing, he was so out of his league. Harry scraped his fingers across the roof of Louis’ asshole and Louis just, like, totally forgot whatever the fuck he was worrying about because _damn_. He bucked his hips, little whimpers and moans escaping his mouth without permission. The feeling had Louis' in a trance-like state of mind, he couldn’t think or move, and he truly couldn’t form coherent sentences anymore. Harry pulled his fingers out and climbed up the mattress until he was once again positioned on top of Louis. He hovered over Louis’ mouth, their lips just brushing, and Louis was about to reach up and pull Harry’s face closer when suddenly Harry shoved his monstrously (sorry about the graphic use of adjective, it really was monstrous) hard cock inside of Louis and every single part of him became subdued with pleasure (after he kind of screamed and bit Harry’s shoulder but then it started getting OHMYGODHOLYFUCKINGSHIT good after a little bit of getting used to.

“Oh, fuck.” Harry whimpered into Louis’ mouth, picking up a steady rhythm of thrusts. “Oh, _fuck.”_

He thrusted back and forth, slow and deep at first but as the feeling of hunger intensified his thrusting built up and became faster, more desperate.  “Harry, ah, ohmygod, yes, yes” Louis cried loudly, his moans morphing into something animalistic.

Harry took Louis’ cock in one hand and started pumping his fist back and forth, all the while still inside of him. It was becoming all too much for Louis, he was getting so close.

Harry moaned, low and husky.

“Please,” Louis begged, his voice shaking, he didn’t even know what he was begging for, all he knew was that his head was about to explode and he couldn’t feel his left knee and at the same time he realized that his neighbors could probably hear the two of them and he seriously hoped that they didn’t want to hear. Harry grunted into Louis hair, snapping him out of his thoughts. And with one final, deep thrust that all familiar feeling seized Louis’ mind and body and the warm, thick liquid oozed all over his stomach. Harry’s thrusts became harder and jagged and he started muttering incoherent words and with a few, final thrusts he began shaking soon after collapsed. 

Everything kind of became a blur after that. Louis was so satisfied and so euphoric, he was pretty sure he just passed out.  
And in the morning, Harry was gone.

* * *

Louis was enduring the worst hangover of his young life. 

It was insufferable.

And the funny thing was, the hangover was not from excessive amounts of alcohol the prior night. This hangover was a side effect of Harry. 

Louis knew damn well that Harry would be all trouble and not much good, and Louis knew damn bloody well enough to know not to get involved with a prostitute. Really, it’s common sense. But he could not shake the feeling that him getting food poisoning and travelling all the way down town to not get Chinese food and Harry patrolling (is that the right word?) that exact street at that exact time wasn’t just mere coincidence. It was, in Louis eyes, the universe shoving the two of them in each other’s paths. For some reason, they were meant to meet last night. And for that same reason, Louis didn’t like to believe he wouldn’t see the bright-eyed boy again. 

But then again, he did seem to be letting his dick do a lot of his thinking as of late. 

He paced the floorboards of his apartment for what seemed like forever (it was about one minute) before he realized, _this was stupid_.

Harry had left, and left not so much as a phone number or a last name in his absence. All that lingered was the memory of an unforgettable night, and a nagging thought at the back of Louis’ mind that they could be great. But there was no point dwelling on it. He was merely trying to preserve something that was already gone.

He looked at the clock on his phone, 11am. He collapsed on the couch and started chanting a little mantra in his head, “I’m not going after him I’m not going after him.” His feet bounced restlessly and, and, and, oh fuck this. 

Louis’ life had always been just different shades of gray and for once in his goddamn ordinary life he wasn’t going to let something good slip through the cracks of his unharmed fingers. 

He swiftly changed into black jeans, and threw a coat over his hoodie. Truthfully he had no freaking idea what he was going to do, he didn’t know where Harry lived, and it was highly doubtful he’d be outside the front of the Chinese shop waiting for Louis, but hey, a guy can dream. He shoved a beanie on his head and flung open the door only to run straight into Zayn. 

“Dammit Zayn!” Louis exclaimed, having just almost died of fright. 

“Hey Lou,” Zayn said, confused. “Going somewhere?” 

“Actually, yeah – ”

“Come on, then, I need a smoke.” Zayn brushed straight passed Louis and into his apartment. 

Louis’ determination sizzled; his shoulders slumped as if proof. He closed his eyes, sighed, pushed the door shut and followed Zayn out the fire escape and up to the roof. 

The two of them had claimed the roof of Louis' building 'theirs' a long time ago, considering they were the only people that went up there and they're pretty sure the fire escape in Louis' room was the only one that led up to the roof anyway. They had two, considerably ugly, yellow and blue beach chairs, a few candles and lanterns set up here and there for when they would take a date there. There was a small garden that they had going too (the only reason it was a garden, as in multiple plants, was so if anyone did find there hangout the marijuana plant wouldn't be so obnoxious). 

Zayn lit up what would be his first cigarette of many that day and looked inquisitively at Louis. "Louis why are you being all...fidgety?" 

"What?" Louis cursed himself, _gees Louis you are being too obvious he is going to know something is up, fuck, fuck, fuck._

"And you're all red and...." Zayn inspected him more, "Huffy." 

"I'm not red and huffy," Louis snapped knowing damn well that he was indeed red and huffy, "You're red and huffy. Gosh Zayn get off my back." 

"Whoa, Lou, calm down I just-"

"Shut up Zayn! You don't know anything, you're wrong!" 

"What? I - "

"ALRIGHT I HAD SEX WITH A PROSTITUTE!" 

Zayn gasped so vehemently that he accidentally swallowed his gum and began choking on it, his eyes wide and bug-like.

"Oh that’s only a little bit cliché Zayn." Louis rolled his eyes, "pretending to choke and all that...oh wait you actually are choking, shit."

5 minutes, a failed attempt at the Heimlich maneuver, a few tears (not from Zayn) and a final successful Heimlich maneuver later Zayn coughed up his stupid piece of gum. 

"YOU SLEPT WITH A PROSTITUTE?" 

"Now who's red and huffy?" 

"Louis." 

"Right." Louis avoided eye contact with his best friend; he could spare himself the judgment in them. "But look its not what you think, he was...well at first I had no idea he even was a prostitute and when I found out I was kind of already past the point of no return." 

Zayn stayed silent and Louis panicked. When Louis panicked he didn't shut up. 

"I just went downtown to get Chinese food and…. He was really hot Zayn...like _really hot_. And it's not like I paid him or anything, like he didn't want me too, and he had these eyes... And, and…. this thing happened when we kissed." Louis snuck a look towards him and thankfully his eyes were not laced with judgment, they were just unreadable. Which might be worse. So Louis continued to panic and continued talking. 

"It was like, like, like, what’s the word? It was like finally having a glass of water after weeks of dehydrating in the Sahara desert. I have never felt anything so consuming in my life, man, I sound like a sad sap, God, I mean I'm talking about a _prostitute_ here. But that kiss...It wasn't just because it was exciting; it wasn't lust, I could feel it in the pit of my stomach, you know? The two of us...we are meant...I don't even have his number, or his last name, I don't know where he lives, unless he comes to my house I'm never going to see him again and I don't think that's what the universe had in mind when it threw us in each others direction." 

Zayn was silent for a few moments and Louis had essentially run out of things to say. He closed his eyes, he focused on the sound of traffic, of birds, of Zayn lighting another cigarette. 

"So..." Zayn finally said, neither his face nor his voice gave away any of his thoughts. Damn that mysterious aura of his. 

"So..." Louis repeated.

"You slept with a prostitute." Zayn asked, although he was really just confirming it with himself. 

"I did indeed." 

"And he just might be the love of your life." 

"Yup." 

"You're soul mate." 

"Looks that way."

"And there is a good chance you might never see him again?" 

Louis nodded; his stomach felt all weird and his chest kind of hurt. 

"Shit." Zayn laughed. Finally, the tension between them dissolved and the fear crippling Louis morphed into relief, he needed Zayn to be okay with this. He needed to know he wasn't completely insane. He could deal with a little insane, but completely was just too much.

"My sentiment exactly." 

"So, tell me about him...what’s his name and all that?" 

They gossiped like the teeny-boppers they were at heart, giggling over small details and sighing over cute ones, it felt so normal and familiar it was almost easy to forget Harry was a prostitute and this situation in fact was very far from 'normal'. 

Louis sighed and scrunched his eyes shut. He could still feel it, you know? He could feel his hands buried in a mess of curly hair; he could feel soft lips covering every inch of him; he could feel the essence of Harry, he could feel what Harry made him feel, he could feel the fullness, the hole in his life being slowly filled up by the thought of this pale, lanky, last name-less boy. He didn't want a one-night stand to be the extent of their lives together. 

He wouldn't let it. 

Without a second thought, Louis was right back where he was the minute before Zayn showed up.

“Where are you going?” Zayn looked quizzical. 

“Downtown.”

*******

 

By the time Louis had caught a taxi back to exactly the same spot he went the previous night it had started to snow. Little white droplets lightly showered his coat and his hair and the pavement underneath his feet. 

He should have taken the snow as a sign, a omen of types. But Louis was stubborn. And safe. So bloody safe. 

Let’s read the back of Louis metaphorical baseball card shall we?

When he was in high school he got good grades, he was the captain of the soccer team, he dated the captain of the cheerleading team, because that’s just how the hierarchy worked. In UNI he got a pretty mediocre degree in acting and he met Zayn. Since then, he had got a few background roles in a few plays, he never auditioned for lead parts because he just assumed he wasn’t good enough, he dated a handful of pretty ladies. They were all daughters of rich dads that his mother had introduced him too, they all played tennis and ate caviar and they were all nice. _Nice_. That’s all they were; that’s the only feeling any of them evoked deep inside of Louis. Just niceness.

And Louis will be damned if he goes through the rest of his life dating for ‘nice’. For once, he wanted someone that would make him feel alive when he most felt like the opposite. He wanted a challenge and a risk and he wanted every second they had together to taste so much sweeter because they had to fight for it. 

So that’s why Louis spent the next three hours wandering around a part of London that was made for only blind people to see. He went home empty handed though. Well that wasn’t entirely true. He bought a packet of cigarettes; he figured he could give them to Zayn as a thank you for being one of the lesser disappointing things the foundation of his life seemed to be made up of. 

He spent the next week of his life doing exactly this. 

He would get dropped off at the Chinese restaurant, he would stay there a while, he would wonder around, he would go back to the bus stop, wait, and finally he would make his way home. He went at all different times of the day too, sometimes he went at noon, sometimes he went at 10pm, and sometimes he went at 4am. It was safe to say, Louis was obsessed. He was also sleep deprived. Also mal nourished, and dawning on the brink of insanity, too.

He would admit, Zayn walked in on him during one of his lowest moments. 

He was lying on the couch staring at a blank television screen. He had on sweats, a smelly old t-shirt, dirty soaks and…questionable underwear. The stubble on his face made him look caveman-ish at best, homeless at worst. 

“Oh, Jesus Christ Lou it stinks in here!” Zayn said, not three feet in the door. “When was the last time you showered?” 

Louis shrugged, showering was not important. 

“When was the last time you left the house?” 

Louis held up all five fingers on his left hand, and went back to staring at the TV. 

“What is going on, Lou? What happened to the search?”

“I figured it was pointless, me aimlessly ransacking my way around a corner of London. I have no idea of his whereabouts but…he has idea of mine. He knows where I live; he’s been here before. He will come and find me and I have to be here when he does.”

“Yes, and it would also be a good idea not to smell like a sewer when he does.”

Louis glared at Zayn. 

“Louis’ you’ve gone crazy.” Zayn rolled his eyes and sat himself on the kitchen counter. “I mean he was a _prostitute_.” 

“YES ZAYN I HAVE INFACT GONE CRAZY!” Louis was up off the couch and standing in front of Zayn with wild, sleep deprived, wide eyes in a matter of seconds. “I’VE GONE SO CRAZY THAT I CAN’T SLEEP! WHEN I CLOSE MY EYES I SEE HIM; I CAN STILL FEEL HIM TOUCHING MY ARM AND KISSING ME; I HAD ONE FUCKING NIGHT WITH HIM AND IT WAS THE BEST NIGHT OF MY LIFE AND I WILL BE DARNED IF THAT IS ALL WE GET BECAUSE WE DESERVE THE CHANCE TO BE SOMETHING FUCKING MAGICAL ZAYN AND IF THE DETERMINATION OF THAT MAKES ME CRAZY THAN FINE IM _FUCKING CRAZY!_ FINE!” Louis’ breathing became shaky, he calmed down enough to feel the built up emotions he had stored away in a little box inside his chest. He was in a race to catch up to a virtually faceless boy who had never actually been running but somehow managed to slip through the cracks of Louis’ grasp. Disappointment, defeat, it hit him… _hard._ He had never felt so helpless. “I'm crazy.”

Zayn slapped him on the shoulder, a bloke’s way of comforting a friend. “Lou, it will be alright; I believe that after ‘the one’, comes ‘the next one’.”

“Oh, no, no, no, it’s not over. Not yet. Not till the big carrot sings.” 

“I have no idea what you just said – ”

“He will come to me like an elf to a flame.”

“I’m pretty sure you mean moth – ”

“I’m going to find him this time Zayn, I don’t care how long it takes me I’m going to find him.”

“You’re starting to scare me.” 

Louis thought about it, “I’m okay with that.”

So after a well-needed shower Louis took the subway downtown (he figured with how frequent his visits were becoming it would save a lot of money compared to if he was taking a cab) with the set-in-stone purpose of ‘not giving up until he found Harry’ which he would do. He would find Harry. He would. 

**

He didn’t. 

That boy was a fucking chameleon and quite frankly Louis was getting sick of the games (given, its not a game if only one party is involved to be honest so that point was kind of irrelevant but you must forgive because Louis genuinely hasn’t slept properly in about 10 years).

The next night Louis was laying in bed, he’d been tossing and turning for what seemed like hours. It had been a completely and utterly sleepless night, it was now 2am and Louis was outright livid. He just wanted to _sleep_ , he wanted to eat real food, he wanted Harry to fuck the life out of him at least one more time because he was going certifiably INSANE. He turned onto his stomach, punched his fist into the mattress and screamed into his pillow. 

And it didn’t help at all, so Louis groaned excessively. As he was adjusting his position his crotch brushed the mattress in a way that sent shivers to his lower stomach. He thought about it, he _really_ thought about it, but decided against it anyway. He’d tried masturbating, _a lot_ , and it didn’t do anything for him. No matter how many times he’d do it, he would never be satisfied; he needed a fix of Harry like a cocaine addict needing a fix of…well, you know.

Wait a second… Louis missed Harry. He actually _missed_ him. His every fiber ached to touch him. Louis came to the realization quite dumbfounded. How was it at all possible to miss someone you don’t even know? How the fuck was it possible to miss someone who he had only spent 3 hours with? Louis was, in the politest of senses, completely and utterly, fucked.

Not literally of course.

If he was we wouldn’t be in this situation now, would we?

A few days later, being a miserable and pathetic mess finally got too much for Louis. He was moping around the kitchen, stumbling over empty pizza boxes, when he decided to let some fresh air in, he stood on his tip-toes and stretched his arms up to open the window above the sink, that was the moment he got a whiff of his own body odor. He immediately dropped his arms and gasped for breath, having just dry-gagged on his personal scent. 

“I really need to take a shower.” Louis couldn’t even remember the last time he had a shower. So, with all his strength, he walked into the bathroom and stood in front of the mirror only to stand face to face with a stranger. The person staring back at him looked _nothing_ like Louis. No, this person had the skin complexion of a ghost, and the jet-black lines underneath his eyes only complemented the paleness. His hair was honestly one big dreadlock. Louis had never been terribly vain, he was the kind of guy that was comfortable going down to the shops in his sweats (albeit that was because he knew he looked adorable always), but _this_ was unacceptable. 

So Louis showered. For approximately 30 minutes. He scrubbed every last bit of He Who Must Not Be Named off his skin, he scrubbed so hard it kind of hurt. But the pain was almost refreshing. It made him feel like less of a zombie, it pulled him out of his own head. It took him a while to hack through his hair, but he got there, and it now smelt like strawberries. After his shower, he put on some clean underwear, black jeans and a red VANS sweater. He picked up all of the pizza boxes scattered around his apartment and shoved them down the garbage shoot in his building, opened all of his window’s, made his bed, and shoved all of his dirty clothes in a garbage bag to drop off at the dry cleaners. 

The second he stepped out of the door to his building the brisk, morning air freshened his face even further than the shower. His nose and cheeks went a little pink (adorable), so he pulled his black beanie down low over his ears. After dropping all his laundry off he decided it was time he stocked up his cupboards for once in his adult life. 

It was quite a walk to the nearest supermarket, so by the time he got there his nose was running and his toes were practically numb, _why the fuck didn’t I wear a coat?_ He thought to himself. As he was about to pull open the door someone pushed it on the other end, so Louis stepped back, intending to let the person passed. As soon as said person stepped outside Louis’ stomach dropped twenty miles south. It was Harry. And in tow with him was another boy, all blonde and little. 

Louis’ whole body went into shock; he was not prepared for this. You know when you’ve build someone up in your head so much that when you finally see them again they never look as good as what you’ve built them up to look like? Yeah, well, that didn’t apply to Harry. In fact, if possible, Louis thought he might be even more perfect than he remembered. His hair was soft and still a little bit damp from a shower, he was wearing a coat with a fur collar thing and those tight black jeans and Louis could have vomited he was so overwhelmed. 

“Louis!” Harry stopped dead in his tracks when he caught sight of Louis, causing the other boy he was with to bump into him. “Hey…hi!” Harry was obviously taken aback. The confusion on his friends face disappeared when Harry spoke his name; he said something along the lines of “ _this_ is Louis? Oh, I'll meet you at the car.” Louis wondered how he knew his name. 

“Hi,” Louis stuttered nervously. He could not believe that of all places, he had to run into Harry at the freaking general store! He couldn’t believe that of all times it had to be now! When he’d finally started moving on with his life and actually let his guard down. 

“How, um, how are you?” Harry took a step closer to Louis in order to clear the doorway to the store, the movement made Louis’ stomach do things. 

“I’m, uh, I’m...” Louis stuttered. Oh god this was awkward. Louis was so gob smacked he couldn’t even speak.

Harry chuckled smugly; obviously aware of how nervous he made Louis. “Back to the non-coherent sentences I see.” 

His smile made his eyes go all crinkly and nice, Louis liked his smile. 

“I’m okay.” Louis blushed excessively. 

“That’s good, that’s good. You know… I had quite an alright time the other night.” Harry said. Louis would have time for his utter freak-out and celebrations later, now was the time to say something witty and cool. He didn’t want Harry thinking he was a total idiot. 

“Wish I could say the same.” Louis teased. Harry laughed loudly, and Louis felt like a 12 year old winning his first award, he wanted to boast and stick out his chest with pride because he was the reason behind that _glorious_ sound. 

“Ah, Louis, Louis, Louis… You really are something else aren’t you?” 

Louis shrugged and looked down at his feet in attempt to hide the crimson he could feel creeping up his neck. 

“What are you doing tonight?” Harry asked.  
HOLY FUCKING SHIT YES YES YES YES! Louis did summersaults and cartwheels and screamed and punched the air in his mind. 

Again, he shrugged. 

“Maybe, I’ll see you? You know, if you end up in the wrong part of town again.” Harry winked (winked HE FUCKING WINKED) and turned away, running to a black car and jumping in the passenger side, and Louis was left standing there like an idiot. 

Like a really, really, happy idiot. 

\-------

It took Louis around 3 hours of pep talk from Zayn and another hour of fixing his hair, and then fixing it again, and then messing it up and starting all over again before he was finally stood on the sidewalk waiting for a taxi with Zayn. They had decided he should depart at 11.30 because the first time he met Harry on that corner it was around 11pm. He didn’t want to show up late but then again he didn’t want to seem too eager, so they decided 11.30. His hands were sweating like crazy by the time he waved down a cab. Zayn slapped him on the bum and wished him luck. 

“Where to?” The driver asked once the door was shut. Louis’ voice shook as he spoke the name of the Chinese restaurant. 

Louis’ confidence wavered as an endless string of thoughts crowded his head. What if Harry was only joking when he told Louis to come tonight? What if he was already with another customer? What if he expected Louis to pay? Well, at least he’d brought his wallet this time. The car came to a stop at the sidewalk in front of the bus stop that Harry grinded him against (ahh, happy days). Louis payed the cabbie, got out of the car only to land on wobbly feet. He was so nervous his stomach was unsettled. 

At first he didn’t see Harry, and he almost cried out in disappointment, but then a boy came around the street corner with a lit cigarette in his mouth, a mop of curly hair on his head and green eyes that still looked just as bright in the dark. Louis tried to hold back a smile. This was it. Finally, Louis was going to be getting what he so desperately needed. Harry stopped when he saw Louis, his eyes widened and something almost like a smile took over his face. “You came.” Harry said, the smile just as quickly disappeared and a shadow of dread darkened his face. “I didn’t think you’d come.”

“C’mon babe, I got a cab!” A voice called out from around the corner Harry just emerged from. Who the hell was that? Louis wondered. And Louis was so caught up in giddiness and a little bit of horniness that he didn’t think twice about the voice, until Harry replied. 

“Just a second!” He called over his shoulder. 

Louis’ heart sunk. He felt like the air had been knocked from his lungs. This was worse than when he was in 10th grade and got a soccer ball kicked at full pelt into his stomach and he couldn’t breath for about 40 seconds. This was worse than when he walked in on his dad and the housekeeper 5 months before he moved out. This was worse than…anything he’d ever felt before. He was humiliated, and shocked, and so disappointed he couldn’t handle it. 

Harry didn’t say anything else; he kind of just turned around and walked away. And Louis was once again left standing there like an idiot. But this time, not so happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you enjoyed the first chapter, please let me know what your thoughts are, bad or good, in the comments below :)


	2. the one with the detox

So, Louis, much to Zayn’s distaste, was very much back at square one. 

Zayn had showed up the following afternoon, he burst in the door to find the apartment deprived of any light, and Louis, in all his pathetic glory, still in bed and buried underneath a pile of blankets. 

“Louis?” Zayn flicked on the light in Louis room. Louis, in response, moaned and tucked himself further into his cocoon. He liked his cocoon. His cocoon was nice. In his cocoon, such things as beautiful boys with heart-stopping smiles and empty eyes and even emptier promises did not exist. Louis planned to live in his cocoon for the rest of eternity. 

“I take it last night wasn’t so much of a success?” Zayn’s voice was softer now, and it dripped with sympathy. Which filled Louis with disdain. Louis hated when people made out as if he was some sad little ugly duckling that needed sympathy and pity parties. He refused to be seen as a charity case. He had far too much pride (which, lets be honest here, was undoubtedly a forgotten cause by now). 

“It went swell actually.” Louis sneered, his sarcasm probably lost somewhere in between the endless layers that separated him from his friend. 

“Lou, you can’t stay under there forever.” Louis could practically hear Zayn crossing his arms. “Come out and talk to me.” 

“I will not.” Louis clung a little tighter to his cocoon; scared it would be ripped away from him at any second. 

“Fine.” Zayn was clearly fed up. Louis wasn’t the least bit surprised. Even Louis was sick of the whiny sod he’d become as of late. “I have to go to work, I’ll swing by later with some food,” 

Louis loved Zayn. Zayn was great. Maybe, one day, Zayn could join him in his cocoon. 

“Oh and Louis?” Zayn said just after turning the light off, almost as a second thought, “I can’t believe I’m saying this…but, fifth times, or whatever, how ever many times its been, a charm, yeah? So get up, put your finest boots on and give it one last shot. And if it fails again, then you can say with all certainty that its not meant to be, and maybe then you’ll be able to move on.” 

 

It was cold. And it was 11pm and Louis smelt like his finest cologne and his fingertips were verging on the brink of frostbite and he was sitting on the same old stupid bus stop on the same old stupid corner that he first met Harry. And he was waiting. And he was cold. 

Louis blamed Zayn, really. 

“Louis.” 

The words went straight to his gut, prodding the seemingly endless amounts of butterflies stored in his stomach awake. He stood hurriedly, almost tripping over his own feet (he wasn’t not eager at all) and turned around. And sure enough, Harry was standing before him, just a few feet away, a lit cigarette hanging loosely from his long fingers and his hair just as unruly as it was the first time they met. Louis’ hands itched to run right up to the boy and wipe that stupid smirk of his face with a kiss.

“Harry.” Louis’ voice was almost lost amongst the blood pumping in his ears, the demanding shrill of passing traffic and the loud thrumming music omitting from what sounded like a really shit house party a few blocks away. 

But when Harry spoke, the world seemed to slow down and make room for his voice, like the face of the earth’s core would crack wide open if Harry so requested.

“This is probably against some sort of rule, y’know.” He said putting his cigarette out on the pavement with his foot. Louis took a step towards the taller boy. 

“I don’t care.” An unfamiliar rush of boldness dripped through his veins. Harry stepped forward, too.  
“Bit desperate tonight-”

Louis rolled his eyes, took one more step forward and with a, “Just shut up, Harry,” clasped the taller boy’s face in his own tiny hands and brought him down into a devastating kiss. 

The moment their lips met, Louis’ body melted. Harry wasn’t slow to catch on at all, immediately wrapping his arms around Louis’ waist, holding him impossibly close. 

Louis didn’t bother with the whole ‘starting slow and gentle’ crap you see in movies, he’d been waiting far too long for this to be polite. Clearly Harry was okay with it too, because when Louis opened his mouth, Harry was more than happy to meet his tongue. The kissed dirtily, by no book, it was somewhat messy and a lot greedy and so _hot_. Harry sucked Louis’ lower lip, and it was so good Louis wanted to drop his pants right there, but the pleasant sucking quickly changed to teeth and Louis was only slightly embarrassed when he let out a moan. 

It was a cold night in London, minus something degrees’ and Louis couldn’t feel his fingertips or his toes, but Harry’s lips were warm, warm, warm, and his tongue tasted like nicotine and world peace and great things and Louis wanted to spend a lifetime memorizing the inside of his mouth and no… he should not be this…enamored…not this quickly. It was just lust, Louis was just feelings some serious lust. And it was probably because Harry was the first boy Louis had ever been with, and it was exciting and new and he’d probably feel the same if it were any other boy. That was what Louis told himself anyway, and if he didn’t quite believe it, no one had to know.

Harry sighed, like actually sighed, into the kiss, his grip tightening further around Louis’ waist until he was barely even on the ground anymore. They stumbled back until Harry was pressed against the bus stop billboard and Louis wished his own body consisted of nothing but liquid and smoke so he could sink into Harry’s skin because no matter how close he was to the other boy, it wasn’t close enough. 

Louis extracted himself from the kiss, for just long enough to let out a breathy, “my place”. 

 

Louis was woken at some sinful hour of the morning, he blinked his eyes a few times, it was still dark in his flat and his body clock was screaming at him. As he was drifting back into sleep, his mind halfway between worlds and his eyes fighting a losing battle to stay open, he vaguely made out a figure moving through his apartment. And just barely did he see the door open and close again, the figure disappearing somewhere in between. 

 

“Zayn, my boy!” Louis sung at the top of his lungs as he burst into Zayn’s apartment, turning on lights, opening the only window. “I have hot coffee and cigarettes!” Zayn lived in an apartment one street over from Louis’, only a five-minute walk away. 

Louis walked into Zayn’s tiny bedroom. It was pretty small, pretty average, there were a few MARVEL posters on the walls, and The Amazing Spider Man in mint condition framed and hanging up above his bed (something Louis would forever make fun of him for). Louis knelt beside Zayn’s bed, where he was practically hanging off the edge of it, and held the cup of hot coffee he’d just brought from coffee house next door, up underneath his friends nose. 

Zayn stirred almost instantly, he reached for the cup of coffee with a groan and greedy hands. 

“Hey, hey, hey!” Louis brought the cup to his lips and took a sip. “Get your own.” 

“You’re an asshole.” Zayn croaked, but when Louis pulled out a pack of cigarettes from his pocket he was up and out of bed before one could say nicotine dependency. 

They ended up sitting on the ledge of this huge window in Zayn’s apartment, with their legs swinging 20 stories in the air. 

“So, he left again?” Zayn said around the cigarette in his mouth. “Without a trace?”

“Yep.” 

“And you’re happy about this?” 

“Well, yeah!” Louis threw up his arms in frustration. “Don’t you see, Zayn?” 

“Afraid not.” 

“Ah, you’ve so much to learn Malik.” Louis put his hand on the other boys shoulder. “The first time we, _you know_ , I was all, like, shocked and confused and didn’t give my best performance, so like, of course he wouldn’t have spared a second thought about me! But last night?” 

“God, Louis, please spare me the details.” 

“Okay, okay. Well, lets just say he’ll definitely remember me now. And that’s all I wanted.” 

Zayn laughed. “Ah, I get it, I get it now-”

“What?” 

“You wanted to have as much of an effect on him as he did on you.” Zayn had always been able to see right through Louis, “God, Lou, your so competitive.”

Louis shrugged, “That’s neither here nor there.” He dismissed Zayn’s comment with a wave of his hand. “All that matters now is that I’m no longer a sexually frustrated, halfwit of a man. I have gotten Harry out of my system. And I’ll never think of him again.” 

Zayn scoffed, put out the butt of his cigarette on the window ledge. “Okay, Lou.” 

Louis went straight to work from Zayn’s house. He worked at the aforementioned coffee house every Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday and Friday to pay for his rent. He hadn’t been to an audition in months. Not a successful one, anyway. 

He got home around 7.30pm, and ordered Indian takeout (he thought it was about time he moved on from Chinese. For the time being, anyway) and sat down on the couch, fully intending to stay there until the America’s Next Top Model marathon was over. 

He ended up falling asleep 5 minutes after his food arrived. 

He dreamt his agent got him a main role in a Martin Scorsese film in Los Angeles starring Leonardo DiCaprio. In his dream he was currently attending the Golden Globes with Leo on his arm and people screaming his name when suddenly a ferocious earthquake interrupted the GG’s. But turns out it wasn’t a dream earthquake. It was a knock on his door. 

He woke up, groggy and confused. His head hurt and for a minute he forgot what year it was. As he was walking to the door, he saw the time on the microwave and it was 11pm. 

“Wh- the fuc- it’s eleven fucking – what fucking – who the fuck –is knocking on my –fuck.” Louis muttered in a dazed rage as he shuffled across his apartment. He did not take any kind of disturbance to his slumber very well. 

Louis opened the door absolutely flabbergasted at who was standing on the other side. 

“Take your fucking time, Louis.” Harry waltzed straight in the door, shutting it behind him. He was wearing stupid, stupid, clothes, those stupid, tight, ripped jeans and a stupid, navy blue t-shirt, FUCK IT WAS FUCKING WINTER THE IDIOT. He picked Louis up by the waist and shoved him against the door, rather aggressively, too. It all happened so quickly that Louis was left rather wide-eyed and stunned, he might have even let out some kind of shocked squawk, he doesn’t know, it was all very...wacky. 

There were a brief few moments before they kissed, which, oh god, did they kiss, where Harry looked at Louis like a sex addict might look at his first sexual partner after years of sobriety. And when they did kiss, well, you know the drill. It was _fucking amazing._

Louis would never, ever get tired of kissing Harry. He wanted to spend an eternity memorizing the inside of the boys mouth, he wanted to familiarize with the taste in such a way that he couldn’t tell the difference between Harry’s and his own.

Louis didn’t smoke. He hated it, found it pointless. He drank alcohol, but he could live without it. And sure, him and Zayn smoked a heck of a lot of weed in college, and sure, they had a marijuana plant growing on his rooftop garden, but he wasn’t reliant on it, nor had he ever smoked it alone for that matter. Louis was not prone to addiction, he never had been. But holy fuck. He was addicted to Harry. No doubt about it. 

“No questions.” Harry panted against Louis neck, biting down hard on the exposed flesh. 

Louis didn’t even have to agree, it wasn’t a question, wasn’t even a request. It was just, _it._

Louis slid down Harry’s body, made a small sound to get Harry to let go of his legs. When he had two feet on solid ground again, he thought _‘fuck it’_ , and spun Harry around so he was the one pressed against the wall, gave him one last kiss and dropped on to his knees. 

“Now, I’m, y’know, kind of new to this so…” Louis announced as he pulled down Harry’s pants. He took his cock in one hand and slowly started pumping back and forth, Harry completely tensed up at first contact. Louis was kind of surprised, he liked doing this to Harry. No, he _really liked_ doing this to Harry. He was sporting an unbearable hard on already. “So, feel free to, like, talk me through it.” 

“Ok,” Harry’s voice was a shivering whisper. “Well, just go at your own pace, and there’s this vein on the underside-” 

He cut off his own voice with a sharp gasp as soon as Louis’ mouth was around his, now, throbbing dick. Although Louis hadn’t done this kind of thing before, he knew what he himself liked, so he just kind of went in that direction. His wet mouth slowly inched back and forth on the head while his tongue darted over the underside, flicking the vein there, which made Harry groan and thrust into Louis mouth. 

“Oh, _god_.” Louis almost came, literally at the sound of Harry’s wrecked voice, it was wet and raspy and _so_ hot. He started rubbing his own crotch through his pants just to get some relief. 

At the animalistic moan Harry next let out, Louis took him all the way down, swallowing back the urge to gag. _Hey, I’m pretty good at this_. He thought to himself. He pulled back just the tiniest bit, and then went straight back down. Harry clutched at the back of Louis’ hair and held him in place while he fucked into his mouth, moaning and grunting out short breaths of ‘Louis’. He came with a silent groan, and Louis swallowed down every last bit of the liquid before he pulled completely away from Harry. 

Harry sat on his knees in front of Louis. “You’re _really_ good at that.” He muttered before pulling him in for a kiss, all lips and breath. “And lucky you, ‘cause so am I.”

** 

After the, hands down, best blowjob in his whole freaking life, Louis and Harry lay on the floor in the middle of his apartment, clothes strewn all over the place and completely fucked. 

Louis didn’t know what time it was. Or where his t-shirt had gone, or what even happened for the last ten seconds of his blowjob because, quite frankly, he all but blacked out. All he knew was that Harry was lying by his side, breathing loudly, and naked. And he was so pathetically content with that moment that he could have written a novel about every single detail of it. 

After a few minutes Harry sat up, started pulling on his jeans (he didn’t even bother putting on underwear the sodden twat). Louis was instantly crushed, Harry was leaving already? It couldn’t even be past midnight yet. 

“Do you have any food?” He scratched his bare stomach, walking into Louis shoebox of a kitchen and scouring the fridge. 

Louis almost laughed he was so happy. Harry wasn’t leaving, not just yet anyway. That was when Louis realized they had yet to have a conversation that lasted longer than 5 minutes and didn’t involve anything about sex. 

“There’s some Indian food in there.” Louis nodded towards the lounge room, where his neglected Indian food sat on the coffee table. He pulled on his underpants and walked to his bedroom area to find some sweatpants while Harry retrieved the Indian food. 

“Oh sick, it’s still warm.” 

After Louis had found his favorite pair of loose-fitting gray sweatpants and two baggy sweaters he walked into the kitchen to find Harry sitting cross legged on the floor, scoffing down chicken korma out of one of Louis’ bowls. There was a second bowl filled with the same content sitting in front of him, he nudged it toward Louis. 

Louis felt like his ribcage might explode. 

He passed Harry one of the sweaters, it was maroon and woolen and when Harry put it on Louis had this very distinct instinct to wrap him up in a blanket and feed him hot cocoa and stroke his hair. 

“So,” Louis’ said, nudging at his food with his fork, suddenly realizing he knew next to nothing about the boy sitting opposite him, the boy he’d been having sex with for the last few days. “Where’d you grow up?” 

Harry paused, looked up at Louis quizzically, and laughed. “What?” 

“Well, I don’t know! I just realized I know, like, actually nothing about you and my mum always said never talk to strangers so I’m not sure she’d be so happy that I’m having sex with one.”

“You tell your mum who you have sex with?” 

Louis rolled his eyes. “Look, it’s not that hard a question to answer-”

“I’m not going to do this, Louis.” Harry put his empty bowl down and kept his eye contact firmly attached to anything but Louis. 

“Do what? Have a conversation?” 

“Learn about each others first kiss, and our hometowns and our parents and stuff.” Harry stood up. “Because the moment we start to care enough about each other to want to know those kind of things, then this,” he gestured encompassingly, “this, becomes something, I don’t know, _real._ And it’s not. It’s nothing.” 

Louis felt the words like a sucker punch to his stomach. He wanted to roll his eyes, and he wanted to scream at himself ‘I TOLD YOU SO’, and he wanted to hit Harry again and again and again until he left and never came back and he so, so wanted to hate him. “You know what, Harry? Fuck you. All I was trying to do was have a conversation with you! Geez, I ask you one question and all of a sudden I’m in love with you? Don’t flatter yourself. You’ve got issues, man.” 

“Oh, I’ve got issues, do I?” Harry laughed spitefully, storming passed Louis and towards the door. “Is that really such a surprise? For God’s sake, it’s not like my eHarmony profile screams ‘sane and normal’.” 

“Oh, whatever Harry!” Louis almost spat the words out in pure rage. He pulled open the door and Harry was out and halfway down the hallway when he called over his shoulder, 

“If you want to fuck someone without any issues, Louis, maybe you should think twice before going home with a prostitute!” 

“Thanks for the advice –”

“Oh, and, Louis?” Harry paused at the top of the stairs, shouted out a, “Fuck you too,” before disappearing. 

Hopefully forever.

3.7 seconds later 

Okay maybe not forever.

Just until he was ready, you know? And Louis would apologize and take total blame and OH MY GOD 

What the hell was happening to him? 

Louis knew nothing about himself anymore. He was a total stranger. See, the old Louis would never in a million years go after a hooker. The old Louis would stay at home all weekend and he’d only date respectable and classy _females_ and maybe he’d go to a few auditions on the odd occasion BUT HE WOULD NOT BE THINKING OF RUNNING AFTER A PROSTITUTE THAT JUST REJECTED HIM AND TELLING HIM TO STAY AND THEN HAVE MAKE UP SEX WITH HIM IN THE STAIRWAY BECAUSE NEITHER OF THEM COULD WAIT TO GET UP STAIRS AND LOUIS WOULD RIDE HARRY LIKE THE COWBOY HE WISHED HE WASN’T AND – whoa okay where did that come from?

The old Louis would be disgusted. 

Ah, but the old Louis was so… _vanilla_. 

God, whatever. All that Louis knew was that he didn’t hate Harry, as much as his every being wanted to hate him, he just couldn’t. And Louis hated that. He had never been the type of person to get wrapped around fingers, he’d always been independent. Always true to his own self. But Harry had just waltzed right through every one of Louis personal barriers, had some fun with a sledgehammer, and knocked down every layer of defense Louis had learnt so well to surround himself in. 

Not to be stepping on Miley Cyrus’s toes or anything, but Harry came in like a wrecking ball.

Louis found a pen under the fridge and started scribbling on the back of a box of cornflakes.

THE HARRY DETOX 

_A FIVE-STEP PROGRAM_

STEP. 1. I WILL NOT GO AFTER HARRY.

STEP 2. I WILL NOT THINK ABOUT HARRY.

STEP 3. UNDER NO CIRCUMSTANCE EVER WILL I LET HARRY INTO MY HOUSE AGAIN. 

STEP 4. NOR WILL I EVER AGAIN SPEAK OF, TO OR ABOUT HE-WHO-SHALL-NOT-BE-NAMED-AGAIN-STARTING-NOW. 

STEP 5. I WILL TOTALLY AND FOREVER-INLY COMPLETELY FORGET THAT ANYTHING EVER HAPPENED BETWEEN US AND SO GROW TO A POINT IN LIFE WHERE THIS WHOLE ~~‘HARRY’~~ ‘HE-WHO-SHALL-NOT-BE-NAMED’ FANDANGO IS JUST A DISTANT, BITTER, MEMORY. GOOD DAY. 

 

Liam was, in all aspects, wonderful. He was handsome, he had a kind smile and warm eyes, he picked Louis up at his doorstep with a bouquet of roses, he opened doors, and he smelt like cologne and consideration. He asked Louis lots of questions and really did seem to care about the answers. He was gorgeous, a gentlemen, normal, wealthy, and _nice._

Zayn and Louis came up with the brilliant plan of setting Louis up on a blind date with another dude so he could find out if the only thing that made Harry so special was that he was the first boy Louis had been with. But the only point that had been proven thus far was that it didn’t matter how perfect you were, if you weren’t Harry, you didn’t have a Louis. So anyway, Zayn had asked around at the bar he worked at, and one of his workmates said they knew a single gay dude that would be up for a blind date. So, yeah, that was how Louis was set up on a blind date with one Liam Payne.

He was perfect, really, he was. But Louis was so tired of perfect, happy relationships that he didn’t have to try too hard in or really put much effort into at all, because it was all smooth and lovely and _nice_ always, freaking, nice. And yeah, maybe Louis was totally jumping the gun with Liam; maybe he was just really good at first dates. But there was nothing about the boy that made Louis’ heart race or his stomach do flips. He felt nothing. 

After about 20 minutes of Louis talking way too fondly about his sisters, he realized he’d been talking for 20 minutes about his sisters, he laughed, shook his head, lent back in his chair and took a sip of wine. Wished he could drown himself in it.

“But, anyway I’m so totally rambling. Tell me something about you, Liam.” Louis smiled. 

Liam smiled, and maybe in another life, Louis would be all over him. Maybe if he’d met Liam a few months ago, this could’ve worked. 

“What do you want to know?” 

They were sitting in a 5 star restaurant, sipping red wine, they had ordered a chocolate cake to share for dessert but it was barely touched because they were both still so full from dinner (which, Liam payed for by the way, Louis’ thought that if one were too drank this guys pee, it would probably still taste better than white wine) (admittedly, Louis really hated white wine) (but still). 

“I dunno, any secret tattoos? Ever been to jail? Weirdest place you’ve had sex?” Louis was desperate to make the date more interesting, it would be awfully rude to fall asleep at a 5 star restaurant don’t you think?

Liam just laughed, and his eyes went all crinkly at the edges. “Oh no, I’m pretty un-extraordinary.” 

Louis’ shoulders slouched and he finished off the rest of his drink. “Just what I’d feared.” He mumbled to himself. 

“Although, once,” Liam continued, unaware of the disappointment Louis was wearing. “When I was at boarding school, I poured like twenty packets of that powder-instant-jelly stuff into the Olympic swimming pool.” 

“Wait, you did what?!” Louis had half the mind to order another drink just so he could take a sip and then spit it out. 

“Yeah, it was the last day of term, I snuck out at like 2am. That morning the whole pool was jelly. It was awesome.” He said casually, like one would talk about going to the shops to get some milk. 

“Oh, my, god! That’s glorious, Liam! You didn’t get in trouble or anything?” 

“No one ever found out that I was the one who did it.”

“What about, like, security cameras?” 

“I was wearing a batman costume.” 

“Wait, wait, you own a batman costume?” 

Liam shrugged. “Of course I do,” his eyes were saying, ‘you don’t?’

“Liam, my dear friend, that may be the best prank one has ever pulled. You have my ultimate respect.” 

He feigned a bow. “Why thank you, Mr. Tomlinson.”

Maybe they still had hope, yet. 

Like Zayn would say, it’s not over till the fat carrot sings. 

Or maybe Louis said that. 

\--

“So,” Louis said, looking down at his fingers. 

“So.” Liam repeated. 

They were sitting in his car out the front of Louis’ building; their date having come to a close. 

Louis looked over at Liam in the driver’s seat, to find that Liam was already watching him. Louis gave himself a bit of a mental nudge and forced himself to lean in towards the other boy, Liam closed his eyes and leant in too. And then they were kissing, and there lips didn’t quite sit right together, there mouths were sliding out of place and there tongues not quite in the same rhythm. Louis pulled away, unclipped his seatbelt and climbed over his seat to straddle Liam’s lap. Maybe it was just the wrong angle, he thought to himself. 

So then they kissed again, and, yeah okay, it still wasn’t great. In attempt to heat up the moment (which currently had about as much passion in it as two 80 year olds going at it) Louis tired to grind down onto Liam’s lap, which resulted in him accidently kneeing the boy in the groin. Liam grunted and jerked away from the kiss, hunching his shoulders and clutching his crotch. 

“Oh my god, Liam I’m so –“ As Louis brought his arms up and away from Liam’s hips he accidently knocked him in the nose with his elbow (don’t ask). Liam yelped in pain, he instantly cupped his nose in his hands and his eyes began to water. Louis felt so rotten he wanted to evaporate into the air vents in the car and never resurface. To prevent any further damage Louis quickly pulled as far back as he could from Liam, which of course, resulted in him slamming his back into the steering wheel and causing the car horn to start blaring deafeningly.

At that, Louis clumsily climbed off Liam’s lap and out the car door. “Liam, I am so, unbelievably sorry,” he began as Liam climbed out of the car, probably to walk him to his door (GOD HE WAS SO PERFECT AND LOUIS WAS SUCH AN IDIOT). 

“Oh my god, that was so awful,” Louis hid his face in his hands, “I’m so sorry.” 

Despite the fact Liam was still clutching his nose in pain, he laughed, like he actually laughed, was this boy a saint, or? “It’s okay Louis, that was…kind of awkward.” 

“Kind of?” Louis couldn’t help but laugh, he was probably delirious. “That was like kissing a cousin.” 

“I know,” Liam’s eyes softened, warmth flooding his face, “I think we could be really good friends Louis.” 

The tension in Louis muscles quickly melted into relief.

“That’s okay Liam, I’m pretty sure you’re my best friends soul mate anyway.” Louis playfully bumped his hip against him. 

“Hmm, maybe you could set us up.” Liam giggled, and yep, Zayn would definitely love him. 

“Sure. Anyway, come up stairs,” Louis started walking towards his building, “I promise I won’t try anything, love, just let me clean you up, you’re a mess.” 

Liam obliged, followed him into his building and up the stairs, and once they’d reached Louis’ floor he wasn’t even out of breath (?????). 

At first, when Louis saw the figure curled up on the ground in front of his door, he thought it was a dog. His second thought was that whoever brought their dog into the building clearly missed the obnoxious sign out the front that said “NO DOGS”. It was only when a pale face and glassy eyes were revealed with a lift of a head that he realized it wasn’t a dog.

“Harry? What are you doing here?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey, once again, hoe you enjoyed, let me know what you thought in the comments xx


	3. the one with the relapse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey hey hey guys this is a bit of a wooooooo chapter cause i was feeling fluffy 
> 
> its not a filler but its just a bit of a link to the next chunk of story so its a lil bit shorter but i promise the next one will have lots of drama and angst and all that grooviness

Harry scrambled to his feet, looking kind of like a deer in headlights, his eye’s flickered from Louis to Liam, and back again. “I just,” Harry began, “I’m sorry, I, I shouldn’t have come.” Harry averted his gaze to the ground and made to walk straight past Louis and to the stairs. 

“Hey, hey, hey!” Louis blocked him, put his hands against his chest and tried not to think about how firm it was. Really, he tried. “It’s okay,” Louis’ voice softened, his smile grew incredibly fond. 

He threw a look at Liam over his shoulder, “Liam, I’m so sorry,” 

Liam put up his hands, already backing off, a knowing smile on his face. “Cya Louis.” And then he disappeared down the stairs. 

“Harry what are you doing here?” Louis asked. 

Louis cradled Harry’s face in his hands, lifted it so he could get a better look at it. His eyes were rimmed with red, and his pupils were dilated like crazy. He wouldn’t make eye contact with Louis; he just looked at the ground. 

“Harry? Are you okay?” Harry’s body, as if in reply, practically collapsed into Louis’. Louis stumbled under the weight, but still managed to hold him up, he could feel him shaking.

“I-I don’t know, everything is moving so quickly and Niall told me to find something solid and, and I’m scared Louis. Everything is moving. Please make it stop.” His words fell out of his mouth unlike what Louis had ever heard from him before, unfiltered and straight from his mind. “Please.” His voice was a whimper. It sent fly kicks and lethal punches and stampeding elephants and earthquakes to the pit of his stomach, Louis could barely handle his overwhelming maternal instincts to take care of Harry on a good day. 

“Okay, it will be okay, can you walk for me? We’ll just go inside…” Louis led Harry to the door, unlocked it with a surprisingly steady hand, and half-carried him inside. 

Harry stumbled; he fell into Louis even more, and suddenly Louis couldn’t hold him up anymore. Harry sunk to the floor, his breath becoming shorter, sharper. 

Louis squatted next to him, “What did you take?” He placed one hand on Harry’s cheek in attempt to bring his face up; his whole body had gone completely limp against the wall. “Harry, what did you take?”

His eyes fluttered open, he reached a hand out and touched Louis’ face, “Louis,” he almost giggled, a soft smile decorating his features. “You’re so pretty.”

Louis ignored the hot blush burning his face; he swallowed his smile and asked Harry once more what he took. 

“Come here,” Harry clutched the front of Louis’ shirt and brought him into a kiss. It was soft and all lips. It was their first kiss that wasn’t leading to anything more. There was no intention behind it, just the desire to kiss. When they separated, Harry let that weak smile rear its gorgeous head again, “I like kissing you.” He said. 

Louis just looked at him. 

“Acid.” Harry answered. “But I’m okay now-“

“No you’re not, it was probably laced with something – ”

“No, really,” Harry touched his cheek again, Louis leant into his palm, “It’s all okay now. You saved my trip.” 

“You are, oh my god, you’re such a -” 

“Charming and handsome young fellow?”

“- A big cheese ball.”

It became a moment Louis didn’t want to end, way to quickly. However, his legs were sore from squatting like he had been for so long and he was so tired and he rather had to pee. “C’mon, lets go to bed.”

“Ok, Louis.”

 

*****

 

Louis was genuinely surprised when he woke up at 7am (he hadn’t woken up that early since he was like 12). He was even more surprised that Harry was still there. Tucked underneath white sheets and blankets, his face all soft and gooey with sleep, he looked at peace. Louis liked this Harry, wondered if he’d ever see this Harry awake. Or maybe the peaceful, happy Harry had died long ago and the peace his subconscious felt was only the feeling of a memory. The thought made Louis sick. He had left his heater on last night and the apartment was a stuffy, overheated hell, he seriously needed some fresh air. 

He carefully rolled out of bed, he was still wearing his clothes from his date with Liam, so he left them on, grabbed a beanie and a coat, shoved his shoes on at the door and left. As soon as he was downstairs and outside the fresh air hit him like a mint based ice-bath might have. Already his head was feeling clearer. Except well no it wasn’t because WHAT THE HELL WAS HE SUPPOSED TO DO WHAT HAPPENED TO THE DETOX?

***

Louis had hit a new low. After about twenty minutes of fast paced walking and brain storming about what to do about the whole Harry fandango, he had nothing. So he stumbled up to a park bench and he just lay there. Resolved that if he lay there long enough that by the time he got home Harry would either be gone, which Louis would take as a definite sign that Harry was a total lost cause. He’d continue with his detox as planned and go back to his normal life. 

On the other hand, if Harry was still there, well, well, well then Louis didn’t know what the hell he was going to do. Probably just continue on with the madness, get pulled further and further into the web of a stupidly attractive and stupidly charming bloody hooker. 

Both options made Louis want to either a) pull out his hair, b) scream, c) shoot himself in the mouth, or d) all of the above. 

It was around about 9am when, defeated, he began to make his way up the stairs in his apartment, each step plagued with the heaviness of whatever lay behind that door. Would Harry have stayed or would he have bailed? 

Louis was beginning to think that no matter what direction he went in this situation the destination would be madness. 

And so with that thought of his rapidly decreasing sanity in mind, he took a deep breath, opened the door and went inside. 

He didn’t know how to react at first. 

Harry was there. 

He had stayed. 

He’d never admit it to Harry, he’d probably never even say it out loud, but fuck, Louis was so glad he stayed. God knows what the disappointment would have done to him if he hadn’t of stayed. 

Louis walked into the kitchen and turned on the kettle, he rested his back against the counter and turned to face where Harry was sitting at the bench. He was shirtless, stuffing down cornflakes from a bowl. He looked up briefly from his cereal. 

“Hey,” he murmured. His voice was deep and thick, laced with sleep. It made Louis’ insides quiver. 

“G’day.” Louis replied. 

G’day? 

G’DAY?! 

WHAT THE FUCK WAS HE AN 800 HUNDRED-YEAR-OLD FAT AUSTRALIAN FELLO WHO LIVED ALONE IN THE MIDDLE OF A DESERT WITH 19 KANGAROOS AND A PET CUCKATOO CALLED DALLAS?!?!?!??!! 

Louis had never said ‘g’day’ in his whole life. 

Madness. 

Harry’s hand paused in the middle of a scoop, he looked up, and biting back a laugh, he said, “Okay” around a mouthful of cornflakes. 

Louis wanted to crawl into a confined space with a grizzly bear. In addition, maybe cuddle a shark. Sit on a cactus. ANYTHING OTHER THAN BE IN THIS MOMENT. 

“So, where’d you run off to?” Harry asked. 

“Oh, I went shopping.” 

“But, you…you don’t have any bags?” 

“Oh yeah, I um, I, um, I meant… window shopping.” 

Louis loathed himself. 

Oh god this was awkward, Louis just didn’t know what to say about last night, weather to bring it up or to drag it through the depths of hell with him and let it die buried in his subconscious haunting him until he became a withered old man and end up taking it with him to his grave.

He chose the latter, for now. He turned around to make a coffee. He heard Harry get up from his seat at the bar and put his bowl in the sink. Suddenly cold fingers traipsed under Louis shirt and brushed the flesh on his hips. Harry’s lips, like honey and water and pillows and a million other soft things, started kissing a trail from the underside of Louis ear, along his jaw, down his neck and to his collarbone. Louis sighed, relaxed his body back into Harry’s, placed his own palms over the back of Harry’s hands, where they rested on Louis hips, and interlaced their fingers. 

“I want to thank you for last night.” Harry grazed his teeth against Louis’ earlobe. 

“Really, it’s okay.”

Harry carefully withdrew himself, and he turned Louis to face him. He placed his palm on the back of Louis’ neck, ran his thumb over Louis’ cheek. “No, its not. I had no right to just show up here and practically demand your, your help. Especially not after the way I treated you the other night.”

Louis was gob smacked. Like proper, novelized speechless.

“You deserve way better.”

“I- I-” Louis was kafuzzled. Because Harry didn’t even know how good of a person he was, and his skin burned where Harry touched him but his skin hurt where Harry didn’t touch him and all he wanted was to rip Harry’s clothes off and eat hot fudge off of him but he also wanted to-

His train of though was totally shut off by a pair of lips softly pressed to his. He melted into the kiss. Became a mess of matter, a mess of Harry. It was like this whole world existed in Harry’s lips, where nothing hurt and everything was okay. 

Suddenly, mid of the best kiss ever, all Louis could think about was the fact that he probably had morning breath and also Harry was still wearing pants. LIFE IS ALWAYS BETTER WHEN HARRY IS NOT WEARING PANTS. 

Louis pulled away from the kiss (he should be given a medal or something for that, really). “I need a shower.” 

“Oh, right. That’s okay, I should probably get home anyway.” Harry said. 

“Um, let me rephrase, _we’re_ going to continue this, just in the shower.” 

Harrys face lit up. “I do like the sound of that, getting dirty while we get clean.” 

“Oh my god, you’re just like a super, mega, big cheese ball, aren’t you?” 

Harry chuckled, shrugged. 

Louis motioned towards the bathroom with his head. “Go on, I’ll meet you in there.” 

Harry sauntered off and as soon as he was out of sight Louis collapsed against the wall. His head was about to explode. No, worse, his dick was about to explode. He just needed a few moments to gather his thoughts and his breath. 

While he was in the kitchen, collecting his thoughts, he thought he might as well give it a quick clean. He wiped the bench, put away the milk and then picked up the cereal box to put it in the cupboard, and just as he was about to put it down, he noticed something, writing, in huge, bold letters. 

THE HARRY DETOX OH NO OH NO OH NO OH NO

 

When he walked into the bathroom, Harry was standing with his head under the running water, very naked, he dick semi-hard already. Louis leaned against the doorframe and sighed. Life is always better when Harry is not wearing pants. 

“Hey, what are you doing? Come join me.” Harry reached his arms out to Louis. 

Louis undressed, and after he got into the shower, slid his arms around Harrys neck and pressed a kiss to his lips, just cause he could, he asked, “You, by any chance, didn’t happen to read what was written on the back of the cornflake box?” 

“No,” Harry slid his hands down Louis back to cup his bum. “Why?” 

Louis almost vomited with relief. “Oh, no reason.” 

All of a sudden, Harry shoved Louis backwards so he was pressed against the wall. He leant in, as if to kiss him, but just barely grazed his lips before beginning to kiss bruises all over his neck and collarbones. Harrys tongue made a trail done Louis stomach and by the time it reached his ridiculously hard cock, Louis was practically humping the air, just begging for some kind of relief. Nevertheless, Harry was not exactly eager to give it to him though. He kissed down the inside of his thigh and along his waistline, while Louis moaned and mumbled incoherent sentences. 

“Oh, say Louis?” Harry asked, breath tickling Louis’ thigh, he was looking up at him through his eyelashes, he licked his lips. 

“Yes?” Louis’ voice was shaking.

He asked, “How _is_ that detox going for you?” Right before plunging his mouth down the length of Louis dick. 

Louis could not tell weather the wrangled cry that escaped his mouth was from pleasure or embarrassment. 

It was probably a bit of both.


End file.
